Breakdown
by NarcolepticBard
Summary: During the trip to a base in the middle of the desert, Sniper's van suffers a breakdown. Unable to repair it, the owner and his companion are forced to wander through the desert hoping to find some help from their teammates. May contain sexual themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Breakdown**

What was worse than summer in the middle of the desert? Having to work during summer in the middle of the desert with only a small pause for lunch. The blazing morning of June was enough to nearly roast the mercenaries. They were used to it, but that year the weather was way too hot. But worse than the battle itself, it was the way through there. Sniper managed to finish loading the van with all he needed for battle and waited for who was about to be his travelling companion. The Spy walked out of the base and grimaced at the Australian and his vehicle. "I'm not going in zat. I wonder if you ever washed it" he spat out, pulling a cigarette out of the case. The Sniper remained in silence, watching the Frenchman smoke and wondering why couldn't he go with somebody else. "What a shame zat Engie's truck was full. And I won't get in a car driven by Medic" explained the Spy as he took his jacket off, folded it and rolled up his sleeves. It sure was hot out there. "What's ze matter, bushman? Heat rot your tongue?". Sniper simply mumbled something and dropped himself on the driver seat. He hated when he had to drive with Spy. He won't stop picking on him, complaining about the filthy van, and being obnoxious in general. Sometimes, Sniper tried turning the radio on, but then the Spy would complain about his horrible taste in music. "They're the Rollin'. This's me van. Ya don't loike it, ya bail out or shut up" he would say to defend his tastes, but the Frenchman would always out argue him by putting Mozart, Beethoven or Chopin over everything.

Engineer and Medic already left, and the two remaining mercenaries were ready to move on. The sun was in its highest point and the heat was way too much. Spy had rolled down the window, put on his sunglasses and tried getting some fresh air, because Sniper's van didn't have air conditioner. It was almost impossible due to the desert heat and the sand. It will be a long trip until they get to Lakeside. Some Elvis Presley tune was playing in the radio and the Sniper humming to it when the Spy turned the radio off and told his companion to shut up. "What's wrong with ya, wanker!?" the Sniper shouted, about to strangle the Frenchman when he put a finger between them. "Don't you hear zat? Ze van is making razher unusual sounds" he interrupted the other one, but he was interrupted back. "My van's in a perfect condition, shut yar hole". It was indeed making a different sound, and it was a bad signal. The Sniper didn't pay it attention. He knew that his van sometimes liked messing around with the sounds but it wasn't anything bad. But the slight scent of something burnt got his attention.

The van's engine started to fail and both mercenaries could feel that the vehicle was slowing down. Sniper pulled over next to the road and went to have a check, while Spy lit one of his cigarettes. "Crickey, the engine's smokin'..." the Australian muttered, and turned his head to the Spy "don't smoke next to it, ya bogan! Ya want it to explode!?" he spat out, Spy looked at him without amusement "Look Sniper, if you had taken proper care of your horrible van, it wouldn't 'ave broken down. I hope you know how to repair it". "Nah. Engi did it fer me" answered the Sniper and causing Spy to face-palm. "Could it be worse?" asked the Frenchman to himself, and one of the wheels blew out. "Thanks fer speaking, spook".

It has already been one hour after the van breakdown. Spy was sitting against the van and Sniper was still checking the engine. "Will you stop zat? You already said zat you don't know how to fix it" Spy complained and undid his tie. The heat was killing him slowly, and he couldn't sit anywhere. "Sniper, give up. Let's see if we can find a gas station or a phone" he said as he patted the Australian's back, but Sniper didn't budge. "Ya sayin' we hafta walk under this bloody heat!?" he asked, "we haven't got anozher choice" the Frenchman responded, and he began walking to the direction they were driving to "Are you coming? Because if not, I'm leaving you here and let ze vultures eat your roasted flesh". Sniper remained still, staring at the dead engine and sighing. Finally he got rid of the nuisance and he can finally focus on repairing the van, or trying to.

The Spy's balaclava was already damp with sweat, and he could feel his face burning because of the sun. He turned to the opposite direction only to see a small bunch of white and red dots. Did he walk that far? What time was it? He checked his watch: 1:23 pm. His stomach was already bugging him, and he wished he had something to calm down his hunger. In front of him, there was nothing else than nothingness, but he hoped that he'll eventually find a gas station. He didn't have faith that Sniper would repair his van, so he will have to call someone. He was feeling heavier and more tired in each step, and stopped to look back once more. He needed water so bad. Sniper was running towards him with something that looked like a backpack. Was he carrying supplies? He hoped so.

Sniper caught up soon with him and panted, dropping the backpack and checked it. He pulled out a canteen filled with water and offered it to the Spy, but he pulled it back and drank him first. "Merci" the Spy thanked as he took a large gulp of water "you gave up wizh your van?". "Didn't bring the toolbox" Sniper made up an excuse to deny that he, in fact, gave up "brought out lunch boxes too". But they couldn't have lunch out there yet. They needed to go on and find a gas station. The sun was going down, the weather was getting colder and the water was running low. "Oh merde..." the Spy sighed and glanced over the horizon: nothing in sight, only dunes. "We need to find somezhing, I don't care what. I need a proper shower and a toilet and I don't want to sleep in ze wild" he complained. The Australian remained in silence and kept walking, soon being followed by his companion. There were some lights far away. Whatever they were, it was their salvation.


	2. Chapter 2

4 PM and still nothing in sight. The lights turned out to be a mirage and only two cars passed by them without stopping. The Spy's pale skin now was a deep shade of red: he wasn't the one who tanned easily, as he wasn't a person who loved to stay under a sun for hours. In fact, during the last trip to the beach, he brought a small tent and stayed in there reading during all day and complaining when Scout or Soldier threw sand inside of it. Sniper snorted at the sight, much to Spy's disgust. "Stop it. Your hideous laugh makes it worse" the French spat out, but Sniper wasn't in the mood to handle his bullshit. He pulled at the Frenchman by his collar and glared into his eyes. "I'm tired of yar whinin'. If ya don't cut it off, I'm gonna leave ya here". It would be the first time that Spy obeys his Australian teammate. More couple of hours without speaking to each other were waiting.

Meanwhile in the Lakeside base, Soldier gathered his team around him after the fight. "Men, today we did terrible on our battle! And you know why did it happen? Because two of us were missing! Skipping their duties!? Not under my leadership". "I didn't see 'em comin' after us in the road, mister" added the Engineer, removing his hardhat "I think they got lost. We haven't been in that base before". "Well, now that you mention it, most of the roads look alike… but we had a map! Didn't they have one!?" Soldier yelled at his teammates, but it seemed that none of them had an answer or were not paying attention. "We're unable to contact zhem by now, so let's get back to zhe previous base to see if zhey had gone back" Medic added, finishing sewing Scout's leg back to him and applying some Medigun beam to it "they aren't zhat schtupid to proceed on zheir vrong vay and get even more lost". Scout examined his leg and stood up, laughing at the doctor's supposition "They would. Ya know how frickin' stubborn Sniper is. Even if Spy was rite, he wouldn't listen ta him". For once in a long time, the Scout was right. There was a long silence until Engineer finally spoke up. "We needta find 'em safe'n sound, problem is there are lotsa roads an' they could be in any a them!".

It was dawn already and the two missing mercenaries finally spotted a roadside inn. "Hey spook, look over here!" the Australian turned to his teammate, but Spy was more dead than alive. He panted heavily and showed signs of suffering a heatstroke, which made the Sniper look concerned. "Spook, don't ya die on me! We're close to an inn!" he shook him, but the French dropped himself on the floor, unconscious. Sniper sighed and picked him up and settled him on his back. He will have to give him a piggyback to there and then call a doctor.

The innkeeper was a stout man, with massive grey sideburns and balding head. His round glasses rose from the sports section of the newspaper and glanced over the two men standing at the entrance. "I assume neither a ya booked a room, am I rite?" he asked, and Sniper shook his head in response. "Nah, but we need one. Me mate over here's gotta heat stroke. I need to use the phone as well" he inquired, but before he could get to the phone, the innkeeper stopped him. "Boy, if ya call the emergencies, yer mate will be dead by the time they arrive. Look, I gonna give ya the keys an dive him in the tub full a cold water. Ya have a fan too which can plug in fer extra fresh air."

Sniper knew some basics of first aid, but he was never able to practise them. He didn't find it necessary, since all the health works were done by the medics in the industries. What he never expected was that kind of situation. Once in the room, he removed Spy's shirt and pants and ran to fill the tub. He was glad they found the inn, or Spy would be dead by now, out of the respawn range. Once he sunk Spy in the tub, he sat by it and stared to the wall, wondering. What if Spy died? He was his responsibility, and if he had died, everybody would have blamed him. The Administrator would have to look for a new one, and this would be the hardest task ever seen. And plus, Sniper would be probably get fired for not being responsible. And all would happen because of his fault. He tried plugging in the fan and directed it to his companion and then reached for his balaclava. "Remove unnecessary clothing" he mumbled, remembering when he took the first aid course. Of course, underwear was more than necessary. He didn't need to see his naked companion. He carefully picked up the rim of his balaclava and tugged at it, revealing his reddened face and a uncombed black hair.


End file.
